Not Her
by IheartOakenshield193712
Summary: John still lives in the flat, but he is soon to move out to be with Mary. Sherlock doesn't want him to leave... Post!Reichenbach
1. Chapter 1

"John!" Sherlock shouted in the flat. "John!"

The army doctor turned onto his side in bed. "Sherlock," he mumbled. "Go to sleep. The whole neighborhood can hear you."

"Damn the neighborhood!" Sherlock shouted irritably. "I need you, John!"

John grumbled and tumbled out of bed. "Sherlock," he whined. He rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. "What is it now?" he asked, entering the main room of the flat. "We've caught the murderer. The case is solved. Your deductions were brilliant as ever. And Anderson didn't even speak at the crime scene."

The consulting detective shook his head and pointed a slim finger at John. "You!" he muttered. "You were not at my side during crime scenes and interviews. My deductions were not 'brilliant', and I couldn't be this 'nice person' as you call it."

John groaned and poured himself a cup of tea. "Sherlock, we have gone over this before. Mary-"

"Damn that woman!"

"Damn that woman?" John growled angrily. "Jesus Christ, Sherlock. 'That woman' is my wife now."

"But you're living here," Sherlock argued.

"You're drunk again, aren't you?" John observed after smelling something a little stronger than tea on his friend's breath. "Sherlock, really?"

"No, I'm not drunk-"

"I don't live here, Sherlock," John pressed on. "Mrs. Hudson is finding you a new flatmate, and in the meantime, I am renting out this flat until Mary and I find somewhere suitable to live."

The detective lowered his eyes. "But I don't want you to be replaced."

John sighed heavily. "We'll still have cases-"

"NO!" Sherlock shouted abruptly. "No, John. I can't do that."

"It's not your choice! Mary and I are married-"

"... then I should have died..." Sherlock muttered under his breath. "I shouldn't have died for you, John. I should have died for my own good..." he repeated for John to hear him.

"Sherlock..."

"No, John," the consulting detective said. "I can't accept her."

The army doctor sighed again and clenched his jaw. "Then what can you accept?"

"... us..."

"Pardon?" John asked.

"Boys," Mrs. Hudson called. "A man is here to speak to you!"

"Sherlock-"

The taller man's face darkened. "It's nothing," he muttered. "Come, we've got a client."


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock blankly stared at the body on the sidewalk. He wasn't paying attention to the gunshots on the body nor was he listening to what Lestrade was saying. His eyes were on John, and John was talking on the phone some few feet away from the crime scene.

"Sherlock," Lestrade snapped in an annoyed tone. "Are you even listening to me?" Soon after the Detective Inspector said that he shook his head. "Of, you're not listening to me. You never listen to me." He watched Sherlock's seemingly lost face. "The only one you listen to is John," he muttered under his breath.

"What?" Sherlock asked, hearing John's name.

Lestrade shook his head and shrugged. "Nothing," he replied coolly. "I was only asking what Dr. Watson was doing."

"Oh," the consulting detective muttered, his face falling. "I haven't the faintest."

"Really?" Lestrade asked. "I wonder if he's talking to his wife, Mary. You know, the one he met after your little stunt."

Sherlock's face darkened. "Mary," he repeated, the name rolling off his tongue like poison. "I don't know. It seems unfair to interrupt a crime scene investigation for on lousy phone call from the oppressive female species."

Lestrade sighed. "Well, Sherlock. Maybe he's happy and this is what his future is looking like."

Sherlock grumbled. "If he continues to interrupt my crime scenes-"

"Actually they're mine," Lestrade corrected.

"- I will be perfectly fine working by myself again. I did a fantastic-"

"And annoying-"

"- job," Sherlock said as if Lestrade had never interrupted. "I was a good consulting detective."

"Texting 'wrong' ever media meeting," Lestrade grumbled.

"- and I always got things done," Sherlock sighed. "If I didn't have John anymore, my work would just fall back to the way it was before him-"

Lestrade groaned loudly.

"- He's got another job. He told me he found another one after I..." Sherlock waved his hand as he trailed off, obviously referring to his fake suicide. "He has a wife-"

"And where there is a wife, there are probably soon to be kids," Lestrade added.

This time, Sherlock groaned. "He has a complete and perfect life, Lestrade. I don't normally talk to you- No, I don't talk to you at all- but I can't see myself returning to my job without him..." He sighed heavily and looked towards John where the man had a smile on his face as he talked to the person on the other end of the phone.

"Oh, Mrs. Hudson was right," Lestrade sighed happily. "I suspected it too, but she saw it in your when she offered John the spare bedroom."

Sherlock turned and glared at him. "I am serious. Without John..." He let out a pained whimper. "I don't think I can come back to work... I'll just..."

"Die," Lestrade laughed before realizing what he just said. "Again."

"Yes," Sherlock nodded, fully agreeing with the detective inspector. "Again. For real."

Lestrade frowned. "You're not serious, are you?"

"I am," Sherlock replied. "John is happy now, and who am I to stop him from moving out of 221B?"

"He still hasn't moved out?"

Sherlock sighed. "This question required him to bring up thoughts of what happened the night before and he really didn't want to relive them. "He and Mary haven't found an apartment, and he was going to rent the place out until they do."

The consulting detective looked to John and heard the doctor say, "I love you". Sherlock felt sick.

"So, what have I missed?" John asked, clapping his hands together and appearing in front of Sherlock and Lestrade.

"Well Sherlock, here, was just-"

"Leaving," the consulting detective said darkly.

"Leaving?" John repeated, very surprised. "B-but you've only just got here."

Sherlock let out an exasperated sigh. "John, I've been here for an hour. You've been talking on your mobile for forty-five minutes."

John frowned. "Then why haven't you been doing your deductions then?" he scoffed. "It's not like you need to me to do your thing. You don't even listen to what we have to say because you think we're amateurs."

"Well, you and your phone call have been distracting me," Sherlock argued.

"I was all the way over there!" John growled. "On the other isde of the police line! How can that be distracting to you?"

Sherlock groaned in frustration. "I don't know how, but it was John! I can't think straight if you're off somewhere else talking to _someone_ else!"

"You think it was Mycroft I was talking to?" John guessed blankly.

"No, John. I knew who you were talking to!" Sherlock shouted. "You were standing outside the police line. Your posture was casual. All your weight was on your left side which meant you were most likely talking to someone who made you comfortable. You forgot everything around you hence your forty-five minute conversation. Right when you picked up your phone, you smiled. A smile that shows you know someone you really care about and admire, something others don't have! You occasionally shifted your weight, indicating that you were growing impatient but you didn't want to be rude and end the conversation. Had that person been Mycroft, you would have been here forty minutes ago!"

Lestrade raised his eyebrows and turned around to give the two quarreling men some privacy.

John opened his mouth but closed it again.

Sherlock searched his friend's face, knowing he had gone too far with that deduction. "John?" he croaked after a while.

The army doctor looked to him and shook his head. "Not this again, Sherlock," he sighed. "We both know it's going to happen whether you like it or not. I am married. I am not single anymore. I have a wife, now. Sherlock, I thought you understood when I told you I moved on after your evil magic trick."

"I did it to save you, John," Sherlock said pitifully. "I thought I was doing the right thing. Yet, I come back and you're with the woman-"

"It's not your choice who I choose to be with, Sherlock!" John interrupted angrily. "I have let your past remarks about my love-life slide because I wasn't serious in those relationships. I told those women that you were always like that. I made excuses for you, Sherlock. And how do you repay me? Jumping off a building and falling to your supposed death?" JOhn sighed heavily and looked Sherlock in the eye. "I moved on after that, Sherlock. You were my best friend, and my therapist told me I needed to confront my sorrow and take the next step. I did do that, Sherlock. I visited your grave and looked at 221B's door. That's it. That was my extent to confronting your death. After that... I met Mary and we-"

"Stop it, John," Sherlock interrupted. "I can hear your smile in your voice, and it's bad enough I have to see it every time her name comes up."

"I can't help it if I love her, Sherlock," John admitted. "And you would know anything about love, I'm sure you would smile at their name too."

"I know about love."

"No, you don't," John replied.

Sherlock folded his arms across his chest. "Fine, tell me what this love business is and how I don't know about it," he commanded.

John shook his head slowly. "If you love someone, you'd tell them of your undying love for them every single day. You'd go out of your way to do nice things for them and make sure they are comfortable. You would love them through thick and thin. You would make them happy by just being yourself. Sherlock, you're not capable of doing that. I have watched you, and I don't think you could ever see someone in that way."

A hurt sigh left the consulting detective.

"Mary and I-"

"I'm leaving," Sherlock growled, his face closing off. He pushed past John and began walking towards the street for a cab.

John turned to Lestrade who shook his head and ordered Anderson to examine the body himself.

"Jesus, Sherlock," John muttered under his breath. "Why are you acting this way?"


End file.
